


Not Happening

by Tarlan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst and Humor, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-30
Updated: 2006-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is NOT happening, Rodney thought in absolute horror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Happening

**Author's Note:**

> Personal Challenge: Wanted to work my way through all the clichés. Already done _Virgin!Rodney_ and _Aliens Made Them Do It_. Now it is the turn of _MPreg_ :-) Of course, it helped that H.Ralph asked for an MPreg fic too :-)
> 
> Many thanks to Susan for the beta :-)

_This is **not** happening_ , Rodney thought in absolute horror as he spat the foul tasting liquid into the nearest receptacle, which happened to be Zelenka's coffee mug. The fact that he still had his own mug in his hand was immaterial because he was not going to spoil the contents no matter how awful it had tasted.

Zelenka shrieked like a little girl, eyes wide and rolling wildly with equal horror as he grabbed at his now contaminated coffee but Rodney barely noticed. He turned shocked eyes on the smaller man, lips trembling with intense dismay as the churning in his stomach increased, the nausea having assailed him long before the first taste of the rich roast coffee on his tongue. He looked down into the innocent looking mug; the murky, dark depths were unfathomable and so was his comprehension as the aroma continued to send his stomach roiling in nausea. Coffee had always been his friend, providing heat and lucidity even in his darkest hours. It was his knight in black armor, swathing through his enemies of fatigue and distraction to give him the laser-focus that he needed to pull one more magic trick out of his bag and save Atlantis. That it should be betrayed by his own traitorous body was incomprehensible.

Zelenka grabbed a fresh coffee from the other side of the lab, his squawks and trembles fading as he inhaled the pungent aroma that he insisted on bringing back towards Rodney while he berated Rodney loudly in Czech. The overpowering smell was more than Rodney could cope with and his stomach lurched up into his throat. Smacking his palm across his mouth, he raced from the laboratory, barely making it to the edge of the balcony before hurling his PowerBar breakfast into the ocean.

Rodney sank to the ground in a trembling heap.

Even when he had gastro-enteritis back in Siberia, coffee had remained his friend, and this was no ordinary coffee. It was 100% Jamaica Blue Mountain, especially brought over on the _Daedalus_ on its most recent trip. He had been asking for it ever since contact was reestablished with the SGC.

"Rodney?"

Zelenka crouched down beside him but, thankfully, he had left the offending coffee behind in the lab. A tilt of Rodney's head caught sight of several of the other scientists with their noses pressed against the glass door, watching him with stricken expressions.

"Carson. Get Carson," he groaned. In truth, now that he had thrown up and moved away from the aroma of the coffee, he felt a lot better but there had to be something life-threateningly wrong with him nonetheless. After all, this was C-O-F-F-E-E. 100% Jamaica Blue Mountain coffee.

Carson arrived within minutes, his concerned blue eyes boring into Rodney as he gently coaxed Rodney from his death grip on the balcony's lower rail. Rodney let Carson draw him to his feet and press him down onto a gurney. Throwing an arm over his eyes to shield them as the world raced around him, he felt growing nausea as they hurtled through the corridors of Atlantis to Carson's domain.

Hours later, curled up on his side in the fetal position, with an IV re-hydrating him, Rodney forced open his eyes, "Don't coddle me, Carson. I can handle the truth," only to stare into Carson's shocked, bewildered and overly concerned eyes. "Oh God! I'm dying, aren't I?"

Carson's forehead wrinkled. "What? Oh no, you daft bugger. You're not dying but..." The frown deepened. "I-I don't know how to tell you this, Rodney, but-but..."

"Well stop stammering like an idiot and tell me."

Carson huffed. "Tetchy."

Rodney snorted in derision. "I'll be dead from old age at this rate."

"You're...pregnant."

Rodney stared at him in shock and then he rolled his eyes. "Oh ha, ha. Very funny. Let's all make jokes at the dying man's expense."

"You're not dying, Rodney...and I'm being bloody serious here. You're...pregnant."

"Granted it might have been a little difficult to tell the gender within a flock of sheep while you were learning how to apply leeches, but even you couldn't have failed to notice that I am, in fact, male. And, unless I've undergone a radical gender transformation..." He reached down and pulled at the elastic on the scrub pants meaningfully to look at his very male genitalia; he huffed in satisfaction. "All present and correct. Then it is anatomically impossible--"

Carson folded his arms and scowled. "You're pregnant. I don't know how and I don't know why but you're bloody well pregnant."

Carson must have seen the terror crossing his face, recalling movie night two days ago where Sheppard insisted on them watching a horror film, as if life in the Pegasus galaxy with life-sucking Wraith was not enough horror for anyone.

"And no...It's not an Alien about to burst out of your chest."

**--**

It took a small brainstorming session between various members of his team before Rodney froze in shock.

"Oh no. M34 PZF."

"M3?" John frowned, trying to replace the planetary reference with a more solid vision of the world Rodney spoke of, but nothing came to mind.

A look of total distress and dismay covered Rodney's always expressive face, and John wished he could reach across and hug the man, or at least offer some small reassurance that everything would turn out okay.

"I'm a dead man."

"Or not, as the case may be," John interjected, eyes dropping to Rodney's belly where the, as yet, unnoticeable child was growing inside of Rodney, implying that maybe Rodney was not so much a dead man as a dead...something else.

Dismay turned to annoyance as Rodney pursed his lips, eyes narrowing belligerently. Carson patted Rodney's shoulder, leaving his hand there and squeezing gently.

"A...person in your condition has to mind their blood pressure, Rodney."

Rodney shrugged off the hand, voice rising with each word. "Oh, forgive me for getting a little upset that I am totally screwed!" Blue eyes darted around in disbelief as his words elicited sniggers rather than the expected sympathy, realizing that _screwed_ was probably not the best choice of word at this precise moment. He focused on John. "How infantile. I'm surprised you managed to get past potty training."

"He has a point though, Rodney." Carson had put on his serious doctor face. "As far as we know, it takes two to tango. So are you sure you were never out of sight of the others for any length of time?"

"Yes. I'm sure." Chin jutting out in belligerence.

"Well someone...or some _thing_ must have knocked him up," John stated.

Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "The Ancient ruins, perhaps?" Rodney sniped back with as much sarcasm as he could muster.

John leaned forward as a picture formed in his mind. "The ones where we originally captured Steve?"

An eye roll answered the question but Rodney verbalized the answer anyway. "Yes. Those ruins."

"Okay. I remember that place now."

John leaned back, recalling the recent mission back to that world and Rodney's failed attempt to switch off the Wraith relay device. The Wraith had turned up and, once more, they had been forced to make a run for the gate. He closed his eyes and thought back to that frantic race, dodging between columns and fallen archways, jumping low walls and skirting steps that led nowhere. Rodney had been right behind him, with Lorne covering their six, all of them weaving and ducking as Wraith stunner blasts struck the ruins surrounding them. His eyes opened suddenly, staring straight at Rodney.

"It glowed blue," he stated. "I thought it was a trick of the light when the stunner struck the column to the left of me as I was passing...but it glowed blue for a...well, for a blink of an eye." He appraised Rodney thoughtfully. "You were a split second behind me, and Lorne was right behind you."

"Which means?" Carson asked.

"Which means I'm screwed! Either flyboy number one activated it and I got to play mommy, or I activated it and..." Rodney drifted off as the inescapable logic crashed down onto him. He swiveled his head towards Lorne, lips parted in a horror that was reflected back from Lorne's face. Only Rodney was playing the role of mommy in this farce, which might make Lorne the daddy.

"Seems more logical that the first one through would have donated the DNA to the...recipient." Carson added reassuringly towards Lorne but that left John _holding the baby_. Possibly literally. Carson must have seen the look on his face because he backtracked. "Or maybe no one donated DNA at all. It might be a clone."

"That's not very reassuring. One McKay is enough for anyone," John uttered, watching Carson pale at the thought of two Rodney McKay's in this universe.

"Oh ha, ha. Though it could have been worse. It could have been you, Colonel." A frown deepened on Rodney's forehead. "What am I saying? How could this be any worse than me?" Blue eyes, rounded with horror, stared right at John. "How am I going to survive all those months without coffee?"

"Personally, I think that's the least of your problems, Rodney."

"What?" Confusion gave way to a sudden indrawn breath. "Oh no. What if I go off the meatloaf...and MREs or PowerBars?"

John turned to Carson. "Are you sure this isn't affecting his head?" He turned back to Rodney. "I was thinking more along the lines of having a kid--"

"What? Why should that be a problem?"

John felt taken aback. "Now I'm confused. You hate kids, McKay."

"And that affects this situation how exactly?"

"Because you're...pregnant?"

Rodney waved his hand as if swatting away a tiresome bug rather than a serious concern from John. "Jeannie'll take it. If not, then maybe one of those Athosian women--"

"You're not farming off my kid--"

" _Your_ kid?"

"It... _may_ be my kid."

"Sorry to have to burst your bubble here, Colonel, but you don't get a say in this. My body, my kid, my decision."

"Is that right?"

"And it might be moot point if we head back to M3--"

"I think we're getting a little ahead of ourselves here, gentlemen." Elizabeth cast a stern eye over all four men present. "First, I'm not authorizing a return to M34 PZF in the foreseeable future. You've encountered the Wraith there on both occasions and as much as I like to avoid an unhealthy belief in superstitions...three strikes and you're out has a nasty ring to it. Second, until paternity is established, Rodney has the right to make _all_ the decisions regarding his...his unborn child." She pinned Rodney down with her stare. "Though I expect you to follow Carson's medical advice for the sake of both you _and_ the baby, Rodney." Her eyes narrowed. "Rodney?"

He huffed in annoyance and waved a hand. "Yes. Yes."

"Okay!" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Meeting adjourned until we have more information." Rodney flipped the lid closed on his laptop and started to rise as soon as he heard the word _adjourned_. "Rodney?" He glanced up with a _what now_ expression. "Have to admit that it's unusual but...congratulations."

Rodney made a soft, surprised noise, as if he had only just realized that this could be something to be congratulated upon. After all, it was not every day that a male member of the Atlantis expedition fell pregnant...or any other human male that John knew of. He snorted softly, shaking his head. Trust Rodney to be that male.

John watched as Rodney strode out of the conference room with Carson chasing after him, knowing the doctor intended to drag Rodney to the infirmary for a battery of tests. Elizabeth followed on behind at a more leisurely pace though John could read her deliberate attempt to pretend this was just another normal day on Atlantis. Once out of sight, John turned his attention to the only other person still remaining in the room.

"Major?"

"What if I'm the father?"

"Then we cross that bridge when we come to it."

"No offense, sir, but the thought of McKay as the...mother of my kid. Well..."

"Then let's hope it's not yours."

Lorne snorted. "And hope it only has McKay's brains."

And his eyes, those lashes and that sweet mouth, John added silently before forcing himself to stop as he pictured a tiny version of Rodney mingled with just enough of his own genetics to make it his child too. The image fractured into a tiny version of Lorne, and John was surprised at how much he hated the idea that this child might have nothing to do with him. It shocked him to realize that he wanted to be the father, and that he wanted to have this tiny life form be a part of him and Rodney. He swallowed hard, wondering when he had started to see beyond their friendship, to see Rodney as his mate.

"Sir?"

John looked back at Lorne with a wry grin. "Let's wait on Beckett."

Lorne seemed to accept the sense in that, giving a tight nod before leaving John alone with his revelation.

**--**

Two weeks later, Carson called a meeting to discuss the situation, though John noted that Rodney was conspicuous by his absence.

"I've been monitoring Rodney over the past two weeks, and I have to tell you that he won't be carrying the baby for much longer."

John felt his stomach lurch. The past two weeks had not been easy on anyone, least of all on a caffeine-deprived McKay. In addition to Carson limiting Rodney's work hours and monitoring his diet, John had forced him to stand down from the team, not wanting to risk the unborn baby's life any more than necessary. He recalled the ensuing argument well. Rodney had been adamant that his condition posed no serious threat to his off-world assignments but John had found backing from both Elizabeth and Carson. They had decided it was a risk that no one was prepared to take except in an emergency, and checking out the local flora and fauna on a new world did not constitute an emergency. Of course, Rodney had not seen it that way, finding yet another reason to hate the _parasite_ growing inside of him, taking out his anger on those around him, and John in particular.

Perhaps deciding to give Rodney some breathing space by avoiding him had not been the best solution, especially with this latest news, but John had spent that time thinking about Rodney and the child he carried. Possibly his child. He had pictured the tiny bundle in his arms, intelligent eyes staring up at him from a cherubic face, tiny hands flying just like Rodney's. Now that dream had turned to dust.

Elizabeth stated what was foremost in his mind as he reeled in shock.

"There's nothing you can do?"

Carson took on a panicked look. "Oh no. I think that came out a little wrong. The baby's fine, just growing a lot faster than with a normal human pregnancy. At the current rate, the baby will be born in little over a month."

"A month!"

"Aye. But the _Daedalus_ won't be returning for at least a month after that unless you make a special request to move the supply run forward."

As one shock lifted, another replaced it. John had not considered the possibility of the baby requiring specialized equipment that was not available in Atlantis. The infirmary already had the equivalent of a premature baby unit, found in a storage room after Carson interrogated the Ancient database, and all the other baby paraphernalia could be created from the supplies they had in the city. Had Carson foreseen another difficulty?

"Are Rodney and the baby in any danger?" asked Elizabeth, seemingly on the same wavelength as John.

"No more than the rest of us."

"But you're recommending that I request the _Daedalus_ as a priority?"

"Not exactly. It just means that someone will have to look after the wee bairn until the _Daedalus_ arrives with a pediatrician."

"Rodney..?"

"Is not looking upon impending parenthood with any joy," finished Carson, his attention still fixed on Elizabeth. "In truth, I think he's still in denial so I'm loathe to make any firm arrangements until after the birth anyway, just to give him the chance to see this baby first."

"Okay, so we'll hold off on the emergency call for the _Daedalus_ , for the time being."

Carson nodded, gratitude lifting his serious expression for a moment before he took a deep breath. "So, on to the next part of this meeting. I have Rodney's permission to inform you all of the results of the DNA testing." He turned to Lorne, a wry smile on his face. "I'm very, very sorry, Major. I know how you must feel but the results are conclusive."

John felt as if he had been sucker punched. He forced a grin, opening his mouth to offer a mix of condolences and congratulations as Lorne's face paled, only for Carson to turn and look him straight in the eye.

"The additional DNA is yours, Colonel."

"Mine?" He barely stopped the shocked pleasure from reaching his face. _His_ baby. Not Lorne's. His. His and Rodney's.

"You're sorry?" Lorne sighed in relief, a happy grin lighting his face. "No offense, Colonel, but I'm not sorry it's yours. Not that I have anything against McKay," he backpedaled quickly, halting when John waved a hand at him.

Carson's lips twitched and John caught the bemused glint in his eye, knowing Beckett had set them both up deliberately. Most likely, he had been anticipating Lorne's reaction and expecting to hear John crow in elation when he thought it was not his responsibility. The look that Carson gave him now was one of intrigue mixed with pure speculation. John offered a tight-lipped smirk, his tone dripping in lazy sarcasm.

"And I always wanted to be a dad."

"Then did you want to know if it's a boy or a girl."

"Not that it makes much difference but...yeah."

Carson grinned broadly. "It's a boy."

Elizabeth beamed. "Then I say congratulations are in order for you, too, John."

John gave a half-hearted smile and turned to Lorne. "Looks like you're off the hook. If you don't mind, I'd like--"

"Yes, sir."

Lorne stood up, nodding to the others before leaving the conference room, and John could not help but notice the bounce in his step. John waited until the door had closed behind him before leaning forward on the table.

"What rights do I have as the biological father?"

Elizabeth seemed taken aback and John knew she had anticipated a different reaction, perhaps with him seeking a way to abdicate his responsibility rather than pursue it.

"In truth, I don't know. This is hardly a normal situation but the SGC may be forced to follow international law regarding the child's status. Rodney is Canadian, not American, and this expedition is multi-national. Again, not American despite having the moral and financial support of the President of the United States." She leaned forward. "If you're positive you want to pursue parental rights then I can ask the SGC to look at the legal issues in the next transmission."

"Do it...but I'm going to try to get through to Rodney while they're gathering intel."

Elizabeth leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest thoughtfully. "I'm just a little surprised. I would have thought you'd be happy to let Rodney make all the decisions."

"Then you thought wrong."

"So I see." She took a deep breath and straightened, nodding once. "I'll see what I can find out. Is that all?" Her gaze took in both John and Carson. "Okay then."

John hurried out of the room but was not surprised to find Carson rushing to catch up with him.

"A moment of your time, Colonel."

John stopped and raised an eyebrow in query.

"Preferably in private."

"Okay."

He led Carson out towards one of the more secluded balconies and locked the door to ensure they would not be disturbed.

"Did you mean what you said about wanting to be part of the little one's life?"

John huffed. "Yeah."

"I see."

"Do you?"

"Aye, I do. And I want to help you. Rodney's my friend so I know how frightened he is despite appearances to the contrary. The radical change in hormone levels has him swinging like a pendulum between happy and miserable. His body is having a hard time coping with the nausea and with the rapid changes as it accommodates the growing child. It's only been six weeks since the beam, or whatever it was, that altered his internal configuration."

He paused.

"Colonel, he needs someone who's prepared to stand by him. I know I should be the one but I cannot be both his friend and his doctor at all times. Sometimes, I need to be his doctor alone." He snorted. "And I know there's only one other person on the whole of Atlantis who could deal with Rodney at his best and his worst...and that's you, Colonel."

John nodded softly at first and then more vigorously. Perhaps he had given Rodney too much breathing room in these past weeks but that could be remedied. Now it was time to make his needs known.

**--**

Rodney huffed as he pushed his bulkier frame out of the seat in the mess hall, rocking slightly off balance and cursing softly under his breath. The rapid change in weight distribution had made it difficult to maintain his center of balance, leading to a few embarrassing moments. He glared back at the occupants of the next table who, unaware of his male pregnancy status, probably thought he was getting fat from overindulgence. They dropped their eyes, no doubt unwilling to risk his wrath, and Rodney looked away only to find Sheppard standing in front of him.

"Colonel."

Sheppard winced at his curt greeting but, otherwise, he made no attempt to move aside.

"Something I can do for you?"

"As a matter of fact, you can."

Sheppard grabbed Rodney's arm and began pulling him towards the transporter. When Rodney tried to break free from his grip, he overbalanced and would have fallen had it not been for Sheppard's strong arm stabilizing him.

"Rodney. We just need to talk."

Rodney straightened and tried to shake off the hand still gripping his arm almost painfully. "I bruise easily." He rolled his eyes when Sheppard merely tightened his grip. "Fine."

He let Sheppard lead him into the transporter, eyes flicking to the display to check the destination, and frowning when Sheppard selected the area closest to the living quarters. He allowed Sheppard to lead him along the corridor and was strangely surprised when Sheppard bypassed his quarters and ushered him into the Colonel's. Despite their supposed friendship, Sheppard had never allowed him to cross the threshold before, but this time, he pushed Rodney onto the edge of the bed, drew up a chair and sat opposite, their knees almost touching. Rodney heard the click of the door locking but curiosity overcame fear and he let his eyes slide around the inner sanctum that few had been allowed to enter.

The Johnny Cash poster caught his eye first, and he snorted softly, having never pegged Sheppard for a _man in black_ fan despite his usual attire. In hindsight, the rebel in him should have been a great giveaway but, as Rodney was tragically aware, hindsight had 20/20 vision. From the guitar standing forlornly beneath, Rodney realized that Sheppard not only listened to but probably tried to emulate his hero too. He wondered if Sheppard was as good at playing the guitar as Rodney had been at the piano before his life took a sad detour.

Strangely, Sheppard said nothing, simply allowing him to look his fill as if he wanted Rodney to see all the private possessions that solved a little of the puzzle that was Colonel John Sheppard. The lengthening silence played on Rodney's mind until he was forced to break it.

"Do you play?"

The slight twist of lips forewarned Rodney of impending sarcasm but Sheppard seemed to bite back the comment poised on his lips.

"I can play pretty well."

Rodney saw Sheppard's eyes dart down Rodney's more ample frame, lingering a split second too long on the slightly bulging abdomen.

"I'm not fat," he stated, internally cursing his defensive words.

"No. You're pregnant."

"Exactly." Rodney grinned and breathed a sigh of relief, having almost forgotten that Sheppard was one of the few who knew about his condition. Then it struck him why Sheppard had wanted this private conversation. "Don't worry, Colonel. I'm not going to put your name on the birth certificate."

Sheppard frowned. "Why not?"

"Why not?" Rodney shook his head in confusion. "I would have thought it pretty obvious considering your military's predilection for sniffing out and persecuting gays, especially as you are not exactly that way inclined."

"And you are?"

Rodney froze, unsure how to answer such a personal question. The subject had never come up before and Rodney had hoped it never would. He did not want anyone to define him by his bisexuality even if he did find more pleasure with other males, finding them easier to talk to, easier to maneuver into his bed.

A flash of irritation passed through him. Why should he conceal his nature? If Sheppard was a true friend then he would still be his friend even knowing of Rodney's preference towards men. If Sheppard could not accept that then this was a friendship that was doomed to failure eventually. It would be better to end it now than linger, waiting for the axe to fall, waiting for the contempt to twist the perfect lips.

He jutted out his chin in defiance. "I'm bisexual."

Sheppard gave a quirky smile. "An equal opportunist. Seems fitting somehow."

Rodney frowned, unsure if he had just been insulted but strangely uncaring as relief flooded through him. Sheppard knew his worst secret and had not turned away in disgust. He noticed Sheppard's eyes drop to his more rounded belly once more, reminding him of why they were sitting in Sheppard's private quarters, having this conversation.

"Mine," Sheppard whispered, a hand reaching out only to fall short of its intended target. Need-filled eyes rose to Rodney's face, implicitly asking permission for his fingers to bridge those final few inches and touch the cotton-clad flesh that separated Sheppard from the thing growing inside him.

Not a _thing_ , he thought. A baby. Sheppard's baby. But that thought only made him hurt inside, knowing he was carrying a child that held both their DNA, a union of their bodies, and yet aware that this was all he would ever have of Sheppard. This clinical, artificial insemination. It wasn't enough, and he did not want the physical reminder of what they could have had staring him in the face each day. Better to stay detached from the miracle of life growing inside of him. Better to hand it over to others when it was born so that it would always see love rather than regret in its nurturing parents' eyes.

"No."

Rodney pulled back from Sheppard, eyes dropping away from his devastated stare but he looked back upon hearing the softly spoken words.

"I'm bisexual too, Rodney. I want you...and I want our son."

A boy. Carson had been itching to tell someone the sex of the child, though Rodney had refused to listen at the time, so why not tell its biological father? He swallowed hard.

"You don't want me. You just want this." He pressed against his stomach, feeling the slight flip of movement as the baby responded to the touch. It was the weirdest sensation but it fascinated him so he left his hand there and focused inwards, only to pull back when he felt another hand join his.

"I want you both."

"I can't--"

"Yes you can, Rodney. Yes you can."

He felt vulnerable as Sheppard moved from his seat and pressed Rodney back onto the bed, unsure if he should be blustering and fighting or accepting the long desired attention from this man. His emotions were shot to pieces, though, offering him no help in making his decision, and then it was too late. Sheppard had shifted Rodney's legs onto the bed and then lowered himself to lie along Rodney's side, propped up on one elbow so he could look down into Rodney's face. One large hand swept over Rodney's curved stomach with a gentleness that belied the strength Rodney had witnessed in the past. The slowly circling fingers gathered up the hem of Rodney's shirt until they were caressing the stretched flesh of his belly. The circle widened slowly, with fingers sweeping beneath the loose waistband of the sweatpants he'd been forced to wear now that his expedition pants were too tight for comfort. He inhaled sharply as blunt fingers brushed over the sensitive head of his erection.

Sheppard seemed to take that as a sign to go a little further, his soft lips nipping at Rodney's jaw line while those agile fingers dipped beneath the sweatpants to rub over his cock, sending wave after wave of pleasure spiking through Rodney.

His lips tingled when Sheppard--when John laid a first almost chaste kiss upon them, the sensation buzzing straight to his groin, igniting every nerve ending along its way. His body had never felt this sensitive, burning with every delicate touch and desiring so much more that he arched into the fingers curled loosely around his hardened flesh.

"Oh yes, yes, yes."

He flicked back at the coy tongue that darted in to swipe at his lips in tiny, delicate stabbing kisses, moaning when John took pity on him and pressed his lips against Rodney's, ending the subtle dance. Emboldened, John toyed against Rodney's tongue, licking and tasting, vying for dominance and sweeping inside victoriously, plundering Rodney's mouth as he surrendered beneath the onslaught of ardent kisses.

The fingers wrapped loosely around his cock tightened their grip, his own precome easing the friction as John stroked the length from base to tip, thumb twisting at the end of each movement to rub over the sensitive bundle of nerve endings at the tip, smearing more precome with the downward stroke. Rodney bucked up into the hand, body yielding as John deepened the kiss, sucking on Rodney's tongue, owning every gasp as the warmth radiated out from his groin and belly, trembling through muscle and sinew as his mind whited out in overwhelming pleasure.

His cries of passion were swallowed by John's hungry mouth, still latched onto his, and he whimpered against the firm lips, only now aware of his fingers clutched in the dark strands of messy hair.

John pulled back, eyes glittering with delight, his bruised lips pulled into a shit-eating grin.

Still caught in the tumultuous sensations coursing through his thrumming body, Rodney lay meek and unresisting as John stripped the semen-dampened clothes from his body before disappearing from the bed, only to return moments later naked, and with a warm, damp washcloth. Almost reverently, he wiped the sticky semen from Rodney's belly and thigh before settling them both into the bed beneath the light covers and dimming the lights.

Belatedly, Rodney realized that he had done nothing for John in return. His fingers worked between them to touch the softened shaft, eyes flicking upwards to see the lazy contentment in darkened hazel eyes as John's hand closed over his. Only then did he recall the hot flesh slipping hard against his thigh as John worked his hand on Rodney's cock.

"Next time I want to be in you when I come," John whispered in the semi-darkness of the room, sending shivers of expectation through Rodney.

Rodney rolled onto his side, finding a more comfortable position. "Next time, I'll let you."

He felt the curve of John's smile against his temple as John draped an arm across Rodney's waist and fell asleep to the gentle caress of fingers on his back.

**--**

 **One month later.**

The wail filled the operating room and Rodney looked on in wonder as John brought the tiny boy over in his arms, his hazel eyes filled with awe as he placed the newborn onto Rodney's chest, leaving a hand in place until Rodney had reached up to hold the now softly whimpering baby. Tiny fingers plucked at Rodney's chest hair but all Rodney could see was the shock of messy, dark hair that was so reminiscent of the child's other father.

He heard Carson's voice drifting up from behind the barrier of green cloth that separated his sight from the blood and gore of surgery but the words held little meaning beyond the slight tug of flesh being sewn back together. Instead, all his attention was on the miracle lying upon his chest, and on the elated man who was showering them both with caresses and kisses.

Hours later, he awoke from a light doze to find John no longer in scrubs, seated in the chair drawn up close to the bed, with the small bundle lying still in his arms. As if sensing Rodney's scrutiny, John looked up, his eyes shining with love and happiness as his finger was captured in a tiny fist.

They didn't need words to say how they felt, and Rodney knew he no longer needed the _Daedalus_ or any of those Athosian women. One month ago, they were two single men trying not to reveal how much they cared for the other. Now they were a family.

THE END


End file.
